


Elevator Love

by moonlitceleste



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Maribat - Fandom, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Badass Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, F/M, Gen, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Deserves Better, jason is too attractive for his own good
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27745558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlitceleste/pseuds/moonlitceleste
Summary: Marinette is best friends with Tim and decides to pay him a visit in Gotham. She meets a charming stranger on the way there, but is resigned to the fact that she'll never see him again—or will she? (Hint: she does.)
Relationships: Batfamily Members & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Chloé Bourgeois & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Luka Couffaine & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Bruce Wayne, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Damian Wayne, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Dick Grayson, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Jason Todd, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 35
Kudos: 256





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my first multi-chaptered fic! It started off as a one-shot, but I started writing and here we are. Updates for this are probably going to be sporadic since I don’t know where it’s going yet and I have a million other WIPs to work on.  
> I’m probably going to rewrite this chapter since I’m not super happy with it, but as of right now there’s no point beating a dead horse. Wow, that expression sure is morbid. Also, I had no idea what to title this fic so I'm sticking with what it is now until I find something better.

Marinette gnawed on her lip nervously as her fingers toyed with the ladybug keychain on her white crossbody purse.

Her eyes were glued to the towering Wayne Enterprises building before her. The big “W” atop it seemed to stare her down, issuing a silent challenge for her to walk past its doors.

“You got this, Marinette!”

The heroine smiled weakly at Tikki’s assurance—although she did appreciate the sentiment, Marinette wasn’t quite sure she could agree.

She was not prepared to meet Tim _whatsoever._

Sure, they had been friends for nearly two years—but regardless, Marinette couldn’t help but stress.

It had all started when Tim decided to commission MDC for a few pieces, offering a large sum of money in exchange for her efforts. Despite being doubtful of whether or not he was truly who he claimed to be, Marinette accepted the request.

Soon enough, back-and-forth emails progressed to casual texting, which led to an eventual friendship. The two seemed to click naturally, which was evident in their smoothly-flowing conversations.

Tim knew everything there was to know about her (barring her identity, of course), yet they had never met in person.

He was the co-CEO of a multi-billion dollar company and she was a prominent designer that moonlighted as a superhero—finding time to video chat one another was hard enough.

But now that Marinette had finished université, she had nothing tying her down to Paris. 19 was a young age to be done with school, but her life wasn’t exactly normal.

That’s why a few weeks before graduation, Marinette decided to email Bruce Wayne.

It was a spur-of-the-moment decision; Tim had made an offhand remark about how he wished he could be there for her graduation, and the cogs in Marinette’s brain began to turn. Maybe he couldn’t come to Paris, but she could go to Gotham.

Once her mind was made up, it was only a matter of planning.

It was surprisingly easy to get ahold of Tim’s father; from then on, everything else fell into place.

Perhaps attempting to surprise someone as smart as him went against her better judgement, but it was too late to turn back now.

Marinette’s phone pinged, and she scrambled to press her thumb to its home button. _Speak of the devil._

**Mr. Wayne**

It’s ready.

Tell your name to the receptionist at the front desk, and she’ll give you a lanyard with a pass into Tim’s office as well as a set of directions.

I apologize again for not being there to guide you; unfortunately, I have other matters to attend to.

Marinette tucked the gift box she was holding under one arm, freeing her hands to type out a response.

**Marinette**

Thank you so much for your generosity, M. Wayne!

I really appreciate all your help in planning this, and for allowing me to surprise Tim in the first place.

Despite your busy schedule you’ve gone through so much trouble to help me. I really can’t thank you enough!

Once she pressed _send_ on her last message, Marinette inhaled deeply.

Her hands moved to smooth down the soft fabric of her blush pink [ dress ](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/8b/be/b9/8bbeb96b3d79aa691b735db0f1495804.jpg).

It was an admittedly simple ensemble, but the billowy sleeves and fluttery skirt gave it a delicate flair. Her white strappy sandals, circle purse, and wavy half-up braided hairstyle tied it all together nicely.

Marinette checked herself over one last time to make sure she wasn’t forgetting anything. She tucked her phone into her purse, grabbed the box containing Tim’s gift, and turned to look at the imposing building with a burst of newfound confidence.

_Here we go._

* * *

“To the right…” Marinette muttered. “Or was it to the left?”

The designer scrunched her nose in confusion, turning around in a circle to better survey the building.

She had already obtained the lanyard and directions, but decided to make a last-minute detour to the bathroom. It shouldn’t have been a problem since Marinette was a few minutes early, but now she was lost. Sure, the place had a fairly open floor plan, but it was enormous! She couldn’t be expected to navigate this.

In hindsight, maybe deciding to deviate from her original schedule had been a mistake.

Marinette sighed and started walking. She didn’t want to disturb anyone, so wandering aimlessly was her only other option.

Well, it wasn’t her _only_ option—she could easily use her Ladybug magic to give herself a push in the right direction, but Tikki would disapprove. Oh, and it was wrong to use her powers for selfish gain. Marinette totally remembered that.

Turns out she didn’t even need to use her Ladybug powers, though; it only took a few minutes of searching for her to stumble across what she was looking for.

About 10 meters away was a set of elevators lined up against the wall. A glowing “up” arrow was visible on the panel beside a pair of open steel doors.

Marinette’s eyes widened at the sight of the open elevator. She promptly broke into a jog, careful to keep her speed somewhat appropriate for the environment. The doors started to close, and Marinette’s heart raced faster. There was a shadowed figure inside, but due to the angle they likely couldn’t see her.

“Wait!” she called as loudly as she dared.

It was almost funny how similar the experience was to her lycée days.

Marinette pushed the thought to the back of her mind—she would rather not taint her day with memories of that dumpster fire.

She turned her attention back to the elevator, whose doors had retreated. Thankfully, the person inside heard her. Marinette slowed her pace as she covered the last few meters, but was mindful to not walk obnoxiously so.

As she approached her destination, it became increasingly apparent that whoever was inside was remarkably tall.

Ugh, she could practically hear Tim’s jest in her head— _are you sure it’s not just because you’re short?_ He loved to poke fun at her height with short jokes, even though he was only 8 cm taller than her.

Anyways, despite her petite stature, Marinette was sure the person inside would be considered tall by any standards.

She prepared a friendly smile, a “thanks” on the tip of her tongue when they finally came into view.

The first thing she saw was a pair of worn black men’s work boots on what was an admittedly toned body.

Marinette didn’t let her eyes linger on the muscles there, rather opting to trace her gaze from the man’s body up to their face. And _wow_ , was that a gorgeous face.

She wasn’t the type to fall for someone based on appearance alone, but Marinette would be crazy to think this wasn’t the most attractive person she’d ever seen.

He had messy black hair with a pure white streak in the front, tousled to perfection in a way that would make a supermodel jealous. His brilliant green eyes were pools of emerald, richer than any shade she had seen before. Marinette would gladly drown in them.

Speaking of his eyes, he was looking at her with his captivating gaze and mesmerizing face...

Marinette would forever deny swooning at the sight. She would never _swoon._

(She totally did.)

 _Say something!_ she scolded.

“Uh, than-thank you.”

Oh no. It was the stutter.

Not just _a_ stutter, but _the_ stutter. The one that only appeared when she was nervous and/or talking to hot guys.

Marinette had long outgrown it—or at least, she _thought_ she had—but apparently now it was back with a vengeance.

Her face heated up, and she moved forward to press the button to her designated floor before taking her place some distance away from the man. She turned her head away in embarrassment, hair shielding her face so he couldn’t see her flushed cheeks.

If she had been looking up, perhaps Marinette would have been prepared for the flood of incoming mass. But she was too busy cursing herself to notice the group of people entering until she felt a nudge on her right side.

Marinette squeaked at the stack of boxes that was suddenly in front of her face and looked up to see a small group of workers entering the elevator, pushing a large platform truck stacked with packages. She shuffled on instinct to make more room.

The cart seemed way too big to fit, especially with the capacity of the elevator. _Someone_ would have to contort themselves, or at the very least they’d be squished up against one another uncomfortably. 

Marinette watched as they pushed the platform truck in all the way. It left the tiniest bit of wiggle room, just enough space for someone to squeeze past.

The designer found herself slowly edging towards her left each time another person wiggled their way past the load.

The elevator wasn’t too crowded, and the process went relatively smoothly—that is, until the last worker attempted to get inside.

He had a build somewhat similar to her Papa: tall and large, so his struggle was understandable. It took a minute of grunts and loud sighs, but he managed to slip past the obstruction and into the elevator.

His large frame, however, meant less space for everyone, and Marinette felt the sudden impact of being shoved.

She couldn’t help the soft yelp that fell out of her mouth as her feet stumbled, and before she knew it her left side was firmly pressed up against someone.

Oh god. It was Hot Guy. Of _course_ it was him.

She pressed her lips together in mortification, arms squeezing Tim’s gift to her chest even tighter.

“Sorry.”

Marinette nearly jumped as the husky voice spoke quietly next to her ear. Her head whipped towards the direction it came from, which wasn’t exactly hard to place. There was only one person on her left side.

She turned her head to face the man with the white streak. She had to crane her neck awkwardly in order to properly see him, which really put into perspective their height difference.

His green eyes were sincere, and Marinette could see the apology in them.

The lack of space wasn’t his fault whatsoever, but it was nice to see someone care about her boundaries.

“U-um, it’s okay.”

Marinette smiled at him shyly, then diverted her eyes away. Her brief burst of courage could only take her so far.

Before she knew it, the ride was over. The elevator stopped with a _ding_ , and coincidentally enough, everyone was headed to the same floor.

Marinette fished out the set of directions Mr. Wayne had written from her purse, skimming over them once more. Her stomach filled with butterflies at the thought of finally meeting her best friend.

She barely noticed the workers pushing out the platform truck or Hot Guy walking away, the outside world long forgotten.

Marinette’s body went on autopilot, following the instructions on the paper until she found herself stopped in front of a sleek door. She didn’t know what it was made of, but she was glad it wasn’t glass like many other things in Wayne Enterprises. That would make her surprise a lot harder to pull off.

Above the key card security system on the left was a name plate, nearly identical to others she had passed on her way here. The name _Tim Drake_ was written in elegant silver cursive letters, the metal gleaming as if it were brand new.

Marinette’s chest tightened in anticipation as she pulled out the lanyard Mr. Wayne had given her. She took a deep breath before knocking twice.

There was a short pause before a familiar voice responded.

“Who is it?”

She scanned her card and opened the door.

_“Marinette?!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference, Marinette is 5’3” (160 cm) and Jason is 6’4” (193 cm), so there's a 13" (33 cm) difference. I tried to use French terms and measurements so it'd feel more like Marinette's perspective.  
> And yea, I kinda hate this so I'm probably gonna rewrite it in the future. I have a bunch of other WIPs though, so sorry in advance for my wacky updating schedule!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know it’s been a while since I posted my first chapter, but I decided to give you guys a second as a Valentine’s Day surprise!  
> I’m really sorry for not updating earlier; besides hating the first chapter so much that I didn’t want to continue, I’ve been really busy with school and extracurriculars, the other WIPs and hobbies I have, and recently my mental health has made a steady plummet haha.  
> I simultaneously have a vague idea and also absolutely no idea where this fic will go, so we’ll see! Updates will probably be few and far between because besides all the factors mentioned earlier, I’m a really, _really,_ slow writer.
> 
> Also, I wrote the last chunk of this chapter 1AM last night, so sorry if it’s not coherent askjdhsj
> 
> Ages are as follows (it’s been so long since I wrote the first chapter that I forgot what I initially planned them to be so...)
> 
> Alfred: ∞  
> Bruce: 37  
> Babs: 30  
> Dick: 27  
> Cass: 22  
> Jason: 22  
> Duke: 20  
> Tim: 20  
> Marinette: 19  
> Damian: 13

The heavy metal door to Bruce’s office knocked against the wall with a _bang_ as Jason kicked it open with the toes of his worn black boots.

“What,” he grunted, not even waiting for the older to speak first.

Sure, maybe his unprovoked attitude was a little much, but Jason couldn’t help his annoyance.

Just hours before, he was preparing to settle into his favorite plush beanbag and read (well, _reread) The Count of Monte Cristo._ After a long week of crime-fighting, nothing sounded better than relaxing next to a crackling fire and getting lost in the pages of his favorite book.

But of course, as soon as he decided to unwind, his phone rang with the obnoxious tune of “Jingle Bells, Batman smells!”

Babs had installed the ringtone as a Christmas prank, reinforced with some advanced encryption she had come up with.

Jason could change it if he wanted to—he wasn’t stupid—but Babs was a tech whiz, and it would take more effort than he wanted to spend. Besides, he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing him struggle.

After the jingle abruptly breached his bubble of tranquility, Jason grudgingly picked up his phone.

He was immediately met with Bruce’s gruff voice and barely had time to process the words that filtered through before the triple beep that signified the end of the call sounded.

_What the fuck?_

Jason groaned in frustration and ran a hand through his black locks, ruffling the hair at the back of his head.

First Bruce called him without warning, demanded he meet him in his office, and proceeded to hang up without leaving him room to talk?

_Fucking rude._

Why could he have just texted the _very short_ request he had to Jason instead? That way he could just ignore it and pretend he didn’t see it.

It’s not like he _had_ to oblige—he wasn’t a fucking lapdog, thank you very much—but if he didn’t, Bruce would come up with some inane punishment, like making him babysit Damian.

He didn’t hate the kid or anything, but Jason would rather not have to deal with a hormonal boy in the midst of puberty.

So he set down his book, threw on his leather jacket, and crusaded through the shitty Gotham streets on his motorcycle.

Wayne Enterprises was just as pristine as it was his last visit, with glossy gray-black floors and glass that stretched from ceiling to floor, so clean it sparkled.

Jason passed through easily enough, though not without being spared a few glances that varied from shock to suspicion.

The double-takes weren’t unexpected, what with his being the son of their boss and all, and the suspicious glances from those who didn’t recognize him weren’t exactly unwarranted.

He knew his leather-jacket, combat-boot wearing self looked laughably out-of-place compared to everyone else.

Jason ignored the looks, a habit that had quickly become second nature the moment he went from street kid to ‘street kid with a roof over his head.’

The elevator was thankfully vacant, and as the doors started to close, he shot a quick thanks to the universe that no one else had decided to get on.

Perhaps this was a mistake, because less than a second later he heard a high-pitched voice shout “Wait!”

Jason sighed disappointedly and pressed the button that would open the doors.

He might not have been in the mood for company, but he wasn’t an asshole.

...Okay, whatever. He wasn’t a _total_ asshole.

The girl ran into the elevator after a short while, cheeks flushed from running.

As she stuttered out a thanks, Jason subtly observed her.

She looked a little young to be working at Wayne Enterprises, and her outfit looked much more “picnic date” than it did the formal attire most wore.

There were only a few around her age that worked at WE, none of which whose significant other would have an access card to the building (other than Tim, that is, but there was no way the Replacement had a girlfriend.)

Maybe she was a daughter of one of the employees, then.

The elevator space soon filled up with boxes, and they were forced to do an awkward shuffle to compensate.

A minute later, the girl was unceremoniously shoved into him.

The sweet smell of vanilla and strawberries—subtle yet perceptible—hit his nose, and Jason glanced down.

He could really only see the top of the girl’s head due to their proximity, but her body language screamed discomfort.

So he backed himself up into the elevator wall as much as he possibly could, whispering a _sorry_ and cursing his tall build all the while.

She was admittedly cute, but he’d be damned if he was the prick who pressed himself up against girls without their enthusiastic consent.

The ride was spent with bated breath, and one elevator stop later, Jason found himself walking to Bruce’s office and kicking in the door.

There was a brief silence as it swung back and forth from the momentum; the older simply sighed tiredly and gestured to the chair across from him.

“Have a seat.”

Jason glanced at the black office chair, then at the door as if he were about to suddenly bolt, and then back at the chair. He seemed to think the better of making a hasty escape and grudgingly walked forward, though not without rolling his eyes.

_So fucking dramatic._

“What,” he repeated once he had sat himself down.

Bruce just stared at him, hands in a steeple position. It was no doubt an intimidation move; he had seen Batman use the same on Arkham villains.

Jason met his gaze unflinchingly. If he wanted a staring contest, that’s what he’d get.

“Tim has a… _friend_ coming over.”

The silence was broken with slow words, spoken in an almost careful manner.

“Okay. Why’d you have to call me here to tell me that?”

Blunt and to-the-point as always.

“I’m an adult, Bruce. I don’t need a lecture about being on my best behavior. Damian might, though,” he added as an afterthought.

Bruce sighed again and _wow_ was he was doing a lot of sighing today. He really was melodramatic.

“I wasn’t going to lecture you, Jason. I just wanted you to know so you could be prepared.”

“Oh.”

The silence was palpable as an air of awkwardness settled around the two, and Jason sat there fighting the urge to shift in his seat before speaking.

“So is that it?”

“Yes.”

He stood abruptly at the dismissal, pushing in his chair as if he couldn’t wait to get out of there. Well, he _did_ want to get out of there.

With one hand he smoothly opened the heavy door, prepared to leave, but he stopped in his tracks when Bruce spoke once more.

“Jason?”

“What?” he asked, with considerably less annoyance than the first two times.

“...I’m proud of you, lad.”

Jason tried to suppress his shock at the statement, but he wouldn’t be surprised if his facial expression betrayed him.

Despite the somewhat-steady in their family dynamics the past few years, they were still an emotionally constipated bunch.

Jason couldn’t remember the last time someone said those words to him; they meant more to him than he’d reveal.

But because he was a part of the emotionally constipated Wayne family, he settled for an offhand “Yeah, yeah,” before closing the door and walking out.

There was a ghost of a smile on his lips, and the warmth in his heart was one he hadn’t felt in a while, but he could deal with all those emotions later—for now, he had a book to get to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I really appreciate the comments I get, and if you have any ideas for future chapters I might just take them into account! I think I have a plan for the next few, but I'm totally open to ideas <3


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